Tag Archives: story

new blog post: peering at sugar mountain through binoculars.

“oh, to live on sugar mountain
with the barkers and the colored balloons,
you can’t be twenty on sugar mountain
though you’re thinking that
you’re leaving there too soon,
you’re leaving there too soon.”

these lyrics, this song, sugar mountain by neil young (who incidentally wrote it at the age of 19), went through my head on more than one occasion today. it was seventy degrees, the sun was out, and there was a slight breeze letting us know that it’s still february. the girls and i headed up rainbow mountain to find unicorns and listen for bears. we accomplished both of our missions – the unicorns were bouncy without horns (some might call them horses) and the bear snores were either testing sounds from the arsenal or thunder that never made rain – though i kept the threat of possible rain in my back pocket in the event that the girls budged at leaving time. “come on, come on, gotta beat the rain” – gets them moving faster than “we gotta get home for lunch”.

between hornless unicorns.

a.’s confidence climbing rocks, h.’s interest in discovering what’s under every rock, and the other explorations that the girls went on today – not totally guided by me – helped me realize that they are climbing sugar mountain, they are in the foothills, they are on their way to fantastical findings that will form, frighten and fascinate them, they are still allowed on sugar mountain – and will be for quite some time.

i lived on sugar mountain, i think i dug my heels in the whole way down, but realized that we all have to move on at some point. the beautiful thing about having children is getting to sit on ‘sometimes sour, hopefully spicy, and lightly sweetened with stevia’ hill, pull out our binoculars, and catch glimpses of a pure cane time in our lives.

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we write together. help the story grow.

good day to you all. here is the premise of friday’s posts. this is a writing exercise that i used to do with my students. i am going to start a story. i would then request that you add to the story. one word, one sentence, a paragraph or six. the next person will then add the next part, and the story will grow. you may contribute more than once, but please wait for two people to go before you go again.(think I was a teacher?)

here we go.

he grew up alone in the green spaces between two major midwestern towns. I mean, he had people around him, mostly good people, and a lot of them, but he never knew his place, he didn’t feel like they cared much. maybe it was him. there were cousins, aunts, uncles, neighbors and teachers, they were there out of obligation. he once heard his aunts boyfriend in the other room declare ‘it’s easier to deal with a nine year old kid than the law’ their chuckles – blended with the crack of aluminum cans, disposable lighter flicks, and the sniffing of whatever it was they sniffed.

yah, he had a lot of excuses, or could we call them reasons, but as he made his way to the court house today, there wasn’t a person in this world that would take responsibility for what he was going to do. no one but him.

“yah, well then can you send the cab over here? i. what? i just said 314. yes cobbway. how long. you gotta be kidding me? you know what? forget it.” he started out the door…

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